Name-dropping connections - The Jewish Standard

I really don’t know where to start this column: From Far Rockaway? Teaneck? Gush Etzion? The Upper West Side? Jerusalem? Toronto? All are possibilities, though whichever I choose, I’m afraid that you’ll have to — as we used to say in my yeshiva days — hold kup (concentrate) to follow the twists and turns.

Let’s start closest to home and turn first to the Beit Midrash of Teaneck, which I’ve written about often (that idea may appear and reappear throughout this piece). One of my favorite speakers in BMT’s history classes is Rabbi Dr. Yosie Levine of the Jewish Center of the Upper West Side of Manhattan, who brings erudition and eloquence to his lectures that always elucidate and educate. Rabbi Levine’s predecessors in his pulpit include Rabbi Dr. JJ Schacter (I’ve written about him, as well as about his father, Rabbi Herschel Schacter), Rabbi Dr. Norman Lamm (you may have heard me mention his sermons), and Rabbi Dr. Leo Jung, a towering force in Modern Orthodoxy from the 1920s to the 1960s, who graced the center’s pulpit for over 65 years, and who died at the age of 95.

While not a predecessor, my father-in-law, Rabbi Murry S. Penkower, preached at the Jewish Center as a young rabbi in the 1930s before his marriage. And yet another predecessor (though many of the center’s members don’t like to think of him like that) is its founding rabbi, Rabbi Mordechai Kaplan (no relative), who, like R. Jung, lived to the venerable age of 102. I met him in his later years at a book launch party for Rabbi Dr. Bernard Mandlebaum, president of the Jewish Theological Seminary, who together with his wife, Judy, were my parents’ good friends. Their son Joel, a classmate and still a good friend, asked me if I wanted to meet R. Kaplan, and I jumped at the chance — I always find it interesting to meet people of note.

But let me get back to Rabbi Jung (we’ll get back to Rabbi Levine soon, I promise). One of his four daughters, Rosalie, was married to Rabbi Leonard Rosenfeld, about whom — you guessed it — I’ve written a number of times. My parents and the Rosenfelds met early on in their Far Rockaway days on their way to tashlich on Beach 9th Street one lovely Rosh Hashanah afternoon, and formed a lifelong deep friendship, which included joint family summer vacations. (Sorry, but the Moose-head Lake/spaghetti kugel story will have to wait for another column.)

The Rosenfelds had two children, Tirzah and Ezra, and the Kaplan and Rosenfeld kids were also friendly. I’ve kept up with Ezra, who’s been living in Alon Shvut for many years. We try to get together when we’re in Israel. In fact, since he’s an expert tour guide with deep Tanach knowledge, a few years ago we spent three wonderful days with him in the north, experiencing Israel from the time of Joshua to modern days. And on our last trip, when time was tight, I still managed to carve out a few enjoyable hours with him over a chatty lunch in Jerusalem.

(An aside about Rabbi Jung. Because of the strong family bond, the Jungs stayed at our house on the Shabbat of Ezra’s bar mitzvah. I was charged with accompanying R. Jung to mincha, and I vividly remember doing so, walking up Virginia Street with him while speaking at the top of my lungs — R. Jung’s hearing was not the best and he didn’t wear hearing aids on Shabbat. I don’t know if he remembered that walk, but he certainly remembered my parents’ warm welcome to him and his wife, Irma. Thus, when I lived on the Upper West Side and from time to time davened in the Jewish Center, I always wished R. Jung a good Shabbos, and every time I did — every one! — he, the consummate, gentleman replied: “Please remember me to your good parents, whose kind hospitality I still remember.”)

(Don’t worry, all of this will eventually tie together – I hope.)

So back to R. Levine. As you know, Sharon’s brother, Jordan, died this past year in Jerusalem, and she decided to observe his first yahrzeit with her sister, Andrea, who lives in Manhattan. We began with an early dinner at Picnic by the Black Parrot, the wonderful new restaurant of Chef Meir Levy, son of our neighbors and friends, Betsy and Lenny Levy. (If you haven’t yet tried it, do so; wonderful ambience, creative menu, delicious food.) Afterward, we went to daven mincha and ma’ariv at the nearby center, where Andrea is a member, so the sisters could memorialize Jordan with their last kaddish of a difficult year.

Rabbi Levine, not surprisingly, was there. We chatted, and I mentioned that my oldest grandson, Ezra Goldberg of Toronto — his high school’s valedictorian this year and Canada’s 2024 Chidon Tanach representative — was spending the year learning at, also not surprising, Yeshivat Har Etzion (known as Gush) in Alon Shvut. Rabbi Levine smiled; his son, Akiva, would be there for his shana bet (the second year of the supposedly one-year gap program).

(Starting from here, I’ll refer, for clarity purposes, to Ezra R. and Ezra G.)

Knowing Ezra G. would be in Alon Shvut, I had already emailed that information to Ezra R., and, as requested, gave him Ezra G.’s contact information. That came in handy when, shortly after Ezra G.’s program at Gush began, so did the chagim (holidays). All students spend Rosh Hashanah in the yeshiva, where meals are provided. But knowing that boys far away from home might like a home-cooked yom tov meal in a family environment, the yeshiva organized a program matching students looking for such a meal with Alon Shvut families offering to be hosts. Ezra G. signed up for the program, but it proved unnecessary since Ezra R. bypassed the system and texted him a direct invitation, which he gratefully accepted.

The other guest at that Rosh Hashanah table? Akiva Levine.

Consider the alignment: one guest was a Gush student from New York City whose father is a successor to the host’s grandfather as rabbi of the Jewish Center; the other guest was a Gush student from Toronto whose grandfather was the host’s childhood friend and whose great-grandparents were the host’s parents’ closest companions. Or as I wrote to R. Levine in an email when I discovered the full story: “The Far Rockaway connection and the Jewish Center connection meet, through Gush, in an Alon Shvut RH meal. Small Jewish world.” He concurred.

How I wish I could have sat at that table. Beyond the delicious food (thank you, Mignon, for being such a welcoming hostess) and engrossing Torah thoughts, stories, and just chat, I would have loved not only seeing those present but also sensing the presence of Simon and Gertrude Kaplan, Lenny and Rosalie Rosenfeld, and Rabbi Leo and Irma Jung. What a group that would have been.

I originally planned to end this column by noting that the circle has closed. But on second thought, I realized that I, who received 100 on the geometry Regents exam in high school, had my shapes wrong. It isn’t a circle at all; rather, it’s a spiral, continuing to spin and turn and expand on and on and on and on. And so may it continue for many generations.

Joseph C. Kaplan of Teaneck, a regular columnist for the Jewish Standard and the New Jersey Jewish News and a Rockower Award recipient, is the author of “A Passionate Writing Life: From ‘In my Opinion’ to ‘I’ve Been Thinking.’” He is a retired lawyer; he and his wife, Sharon, have been blessed with four wonderful daughters and six delicious grandchildren.

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